


Introductions: Sarah Lennox

by kateydidnt



Series: Botosphere [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateydidnt/pseuds/kateydidnt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in Eowyn77's Introductions series. Sarah Lennox's POV as she meets the Autobots for the first time, beginning with Ironhide. Rated T to be safe for Cybertronian swearing and mild innuendo.</p><p>The Introductions series is a subset of the Botosphere, introducing various people to the Autobots.</p><p>Timeline: Post-Transformers; Pre-RoTF</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I sat in the rocking chair, mindlessly humming to Annabelle. She'd drifted off more or less, but I wanted to give her another couple of minutes to get into a good, deep sleep before I put her down for the night.

It should have been Will rocking her to sleep, but she still was wary of him sometimes, even though he'd been home for a month now. I sighed, trying to wrap up this gut-twisting fear and pack it away until after Will left. He was being deployed tonight – his ride would arrive in a little more than an hour – and this time he couldn't even tell me where he was going. Classified. Everything was classified these days. Ever since Soccent was destroyed.

When I was reasonably sure I wouldn't break down crying in front of my soldier, I put Annabelle in her crib and went downstairs. He was in the kitchen, a bowl of limes from the tree in the back yard beside him. He was already dressed for duty, but he had his sleeves rolled up and was just finishing making a second glass of limeade. It was my favorite.

Will looked up, a heartbreakingly tender smile on his face, and he held out a glass for me. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's drink these on the back porch."

It was harder than it should have been to curl up beside him on the porch swing and fake a smile. We'd been separated by his various assignments many times in our marriage. In fact, the last month had been the longest time when he'd been home every single night. I would have guessed he had earned some sort of desk job, except his uniforms smelled like diesel and machine oil. Whatever his top-secret project was, I'd known for a while now that it wasn't some safe, state-side promotion. This deployment – for an unknown period of time – just confirmed my fears.

I was nestled up against his side, the two of us rocking together in the deep peace of the quiet night.

"Talk to me, Sarah."

"About what?" I answered, my pleasant tone deceptively light.

"I can tell you're trying to be brave, but you don't need to be. Not tonight. Tell me what you're thinking."

"The truth?"

"The truth."

I hesitated, rattling the ice around in my limeade. "We thought you were dead for days. Those words just pounded in my brain over and over. _No survivors_."

"Bad intel," he said, and I could hear the slight smile in his voice.

"A lot of women didn't get the happy ending I did."

"Yes, but those men weren't me."

I sat up straighter to look him in the eyes. "You could have been one of the casualties so easily, Will. You almost were. And this deployment is going to be even more dangerous."

"No, it won't be." He pulled me against his side again, his hand soothingly stroking my arm. "I've told you a dozen times. There will never be another Soccent, Sarah."

"What about Mission City?" I said softly. "Will there be another one?"

He fell silent. I'd never brought up that terrorist attack because I wasn't sure he'd been there. I had hoped they wouldn't have sent him into something like that after what he'd been through in Qatar. But his silence told me what I'd most feared – that he was in the thick of things when it came to this mysterious weapon.

"I survived that, too," he finally said.

"For two days, you were dead. You wanted to know what I'm thinking, and I'm thinking that I couldn't last another twenty minutes, much less twenty years, feeling like that. I know there are no guarantees in life, not even for civilian families, but it's never going to be the same when they send you out again. And it's worse in other ways, too. I don't know where you're going or what you'll be doing or when to even expect you back. And no video-calls, either. It'll be almost like this last month was a dream and _no survivors_ is the reality." It had felt that way when he first started working at the base again after his two-week vacation. It wasn't until he'd endured a week of hourly text messages from me that I was really convinced he was going to live long enough to come home when he said he would.

"You don't want me to go."

That finally cracked me, and the tears welled up in my eyes. He'd said that the first time he had to leave me; it was during our engagement. I'd lied through my teeth that day, telling him that he needed to go and that I was proud of him and that I'd be strong enough to survive for the short time he was gone. I couldn't find it in me to lie again.

Will kissed the top of my head. "That's what I thought."

"I'm sorry." I managed to keep from sobbing. Only the quiet tears streaming down my cheeks gave me away.

Tires crunched in the gravel as his ride pulled up. Were they early, or had we really been out here so long?

I shifted to stand up, but Will held me firmly by his side. "Don't be sorry, Sarah. I asked. You answered. But I didn't ask so I could twist a knife in your heart."

A little sob broke through, but I choked it down. Later. When he was gone and my tears wouldn't be making him choose between me and his duty.

"I asked because…well, I know things that are dangerous in the wrong hands, but to you they would be a comfort, I think. But I needed to know how you truly felt because I didn't want to put you in even the slightest risk if there wasn't a need."

I sat up to look at him again, wiping away my tears. "Your top-secret job."

He solemnly nodded. "It took calling in a few favors, and my friends calling in a few favors, but we got you cleared for a few details about my assignment. Do you want to hear what I'm allowed to tell you? Some of it might seem…intimidating at first, but I promise you'll have nothing to fear."

"Yes," I blurted out without thinking. The curiosity – morbid curiosity – had been eating at me for weeks now, and I was sure that whatever was going on couldn't be as bad as my imagination.

He took a deep breath and then stood, pulling me to his side. Together we walked to the top step of the deck. "Okay," he said to the night.

The vehicle I'd heard in the drive pulled around into the back yard. I watched it warily.

"Remember, you don't need to be afraid, sweetheart. This is my friend, Ironhide."

I jumped when the hood split down the middle. I could hear the whirring and clicking of gears as the truck twisted and stretched, rising taller…and taller. I jumped again when two blue lights flipped into view. Even though they could have been anything, I _knew_ they were eyes.

The last pieces fell into place. It was a robot of some kind.

"Ironhide," Will said, "this is my wife, Sarah."

"You have taken Will's designation?" the thing asked in a surprisingly human voice. Not nasally robot sounds like those old B movies, and not choppy like voice simulators. It wasn't even one of the overly-polite computer voices from sci-fi shows. This was the deep voice of a man ordering beer to go with his pizza.

I looked up to Will feeling stunned and confused – in shock still. "Yes," he answered the robot for me. "She's taken my last name."

"Sarah Lennox," the thing named Ironhide continued. "It is an honor to meet the bonded mate of one of Earth's heroes."

"Thank you," I managed to mumble, still mentally tripping over the odd wording and the phrase 'Earth's heroes.'

"Ironhide and I will be partners in the upcoming mission."

That got my attention. I looked urgently from Will to the machine and back. "It's going with you?" I wasn't sure if I should be more afraid for Will or the enemy.

"He, Sarah. He is going with me."

"But…why? What does he…?"

"Will and I fight on the same side," the robot called Ironhide answered. He…well if he were human it would look vaguely like he was flexing his arms, and two glowing tubes flipped up on his forearms. They were obviously weapons of some kind. I suddenly understood what Will had meant about intimidating. "I am the weapons specialist for my half of the strike team."

"Your half?"

"Sarah." Will physically turned my torso so I would look him in the eyes. I couldn't seem to think straight if I was looking at the robot. "Ironhide is an Autobot, an autonomous robot."

"You're on the development team," I guessed.

Ironhide harrumphed. "You honestly think your government could come up with something as advanced as me? You can't even build proper solar panels."

"He's an alien," Will continued. "He's a robot, but he's sentient, thinking and feeling. There are others like him. Some, like the one that attacked Soccent, have no respect for life – not even the life of their fellow aliens."

"Decepticons." The robot spat the word.

Will ignored him. "Others, like Ironhide and a few others, have a deep and abiding respect for all sentient life. Those are the Autobots."

"But…" My gaze ping-ponged between Will and Ironhide again. "But you said you fight."

"My race is long-lived," Ironhide said, "but death finds us, too. I kill those who, in hate, would kill others. I protect the innocent."

"Protect them from the Decepticons?" I said, trying to keep up.

"Yes."

I looked up at my husband again. "Why do you have to go if there are these…good robots…"

"Autobots," Ironhide corrected.

"Autobots to fight the Decepticons?"

"Because this is our country, Sarah. Our planet. We have as much duty to lay our lives on the line for our fellow human beings as the Autobots do, even if it didn't begin as our war."

"So _you_ are risking _your_ life to help _him_ with _his_ war, right?"

"The Decepticons attacked our base unprovoked. That makes it my war."

That might matter to him, but not so much for me. I wasn't having my husband with his puny body armor take to the front lines in a battle of these metal nightmares. "What good could it possibly do to risk your life trying to fight something like _that_?" I argued, gesturing toward the…the Autobot. "I mean, what could you possibly do?"

"That's classified," Will said at the same time that Ironhide exclaimed, "Are you kidding? In Mission City, you humans pretty much single-handedly took down the Decepticon who destroyed Soccent. Will here personally skidded underneath the thing and blew his aft off, if you'll pardon the language."

My jaw fell open, because I had a pretty good idea what the Autobot meant. "You got that close?" I demanded through gritted teeth.

"Thanks, 'Hide," Will sarcastically muttered. Then he rested his hands on the tops of my arms, squeezing just a little to keep my attention. "It won't ever be that close again. We went into Mission City outnumbered five to six. Only two of theirs survived. This deployment will be a hunt and destroy, not a battle. And like I said, Ironhide will have my six."

" _Ironhide_ will?"

He heard the edge in my voice and quietly nodded.

I drew myself up to my full height and my chin jutted out as I turned on the Autobot. If this was his war, he better be serious about taking care of the people he was dragging into it. "Then listen here, Ironhide, and you listen well. If you let anything happen to my husband I will personally rip out your sparkplugs, shove a live round up _your_ aft and scrap whatever's left. Got it?"

Now he was the one speechless, staring at me like I'd lost my mind.

I blushed but steadily held his gaze. I was 99.9% sure I wouldn't be able to do any of those things, but I was a mom and an Army wife, dammit, and this monster had better believe that, when I said something, I meant it. Especially if it was related to bringing Will home alive. "You understand?"

A slow smile spread over his face and he nodded. "Perfectly." Then he grinned at my husband. "Lennox, you've got yourself a real femme. No wonder you walked through Qatar and the Pit to come home to her." He leaned closer, and though his face was nothing but metal and those odd blue eyes, his expression was conspiratorial. "And I'll make you a promise in return, Sarah Lennox. If your mate ever comes home in anything other than one living, breathing piece, I'll want you to do all that and more. Slowly and painfully. But when I bring Major Lennox home to you safe and sound," he declared, straightening, "you'll owe me a wash and wax." Then he folded back up into a pickup truck. His return to the mundane shape was as shocking as his robot form.

"Deal," I softly agreed, unsure if he could hear me or not.

Will tugged on my hand, leading me inside to the kitchen where his duffle was waiting. "Better?"

I drew a shaky breath. "Not sure."

"I'd be fighting Decepticons regardless. We just have much better odds of winning with 'bots like Ironhide at our side. Does _that_ help?"

I half-laughed. "Maybe a little."

Swinging the duffle over his shoulder, he hugged me tight and kissed my forehead. "I'll come home to you. Always."

As Will let me go, I asked, "What did he mean by 'bonded mate'? Anybody else and I would have assumed it was something kinky."

He chuckled. "Apparently, two Autobots can link to form a single 'bot, combining the strengths of both. They're still individuals, but it's a pretty…intense relationship. I didn't know about all that until recently, though. Anyway, when I first went to the Autobots for help in getting you security clearance, they asked why you needed it, since most military wives don't. I told them you were a part of me and that it was killing me to see you hurting like this. They asked which part."

Now I was grinning, too. "What did you tell them?"

His eyes sparkled. "The heart. They backed me 100% on getting you clearance after that."

"Aww." I pulled him into one last, tight hug. "Who knew GI Joe could be so sentimental."

One last, quick kiss. "It'll be our little secret."

"Now get out of here," I said, letting him go and walking him to the back door. "And I meant it, Ironhide. You better bring him home to me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to canon, we more or less follow IDW's Transformers: Alliance and the movies, with one major exception: we have Arcee arriving much earlier than she did in Alliance.

I saw the dust rising off our two-mile gravel driveway, and I excitedly pulled Annabelle out of her bouncer. "Daddy's home, sweetie! Daddy's home!"

We met Will and…and the big black truck in the front yard. Will swept us both into a big hug and kissed me soundly. "My ladies," he said, affectionately tweaking Annabelle's nose.

"How'd it go?" I'd seen the story on the news about a munitions plant blowing up in the Nevada desert, and I strongly suspected that's where he and his strike team had been.

"Pretty well," he said with grim satisfaction. "Everyone on _my_ team present and accounted for."

I nodded. "Good."

The truck surreptitiously rolled around to the back yard. I picked up Will's duffle so that he would have a spare arm to wrap around me, and we went inside. "Have you had lunch?" I asked.

"Ate on the base. I'll be fine until dinner."

"Go change into something more civilian, then, and meet me outside," I said, giving him one more solid kiss.

In the back yard, I spread a blanket out under a tree for Annabelle and put her on her belly with a handful of toys. She promptly rolled onto her back. In the shade of the house, I started filling a bucket with soapy water. It creeped me out to turn my back on the truck that was so much more, but he and Will worked together – were friends, even – and so I fought the instinctive reaction. Will joined us just as I was turning off the spigot.

"Here, let me help you with that, Sarah."

"No, no, no. This is between me and Ironhide. You can help me with the waxing, though, if you want. Hold your daughter," I insisted. "She was signing for you this morning." After hearing about all the benefits of sign language for babies, I'd been trying to teach her. There were only four signs she knew so far: mommy, milk, more, and now daddy.

Will's face lit up. "She was?" He sat beside her on the blanket and tickled her, making her squeal with laughter. Then he noticed the natural sponge I was using and the array of cleaning supplies spread out on the grass next to the free-standing ladder.

"Holy crap. How much did you spend on all that?" he demanded.

I chuckled as I set up the ladder and began washing the truck's hood. "That's classified, Major Lennox. But I will tell you the clerk's eyes lit up when I told him I needed everything to do a thorough detailing and asked him to help me pick out the very best stuff."

"I'm sure," he grumbled.

I yelped and dropped my sponge when a voice from the cab said, "So that's your sparkling Annabelle. Sorry, Sarah."

"Didn't know if you could chat in that form or not," I murmured. I tried to brush the leaves and dirt off the sponge and onto my cut-off jeans without much success.

"It's a trick one of our 'bots learned, talking through the radio. He had to use whatever was on the stations, but with these digital stereos, it's a simple matter to reroute the voice."

Will, full of gloating parental pride, didn't let us get sidetracked too far. "I told you she was beautiful."

I couldn't help but grin to hear him talk up our daughter like that. Rinsing out the sponge, I started on the hood again.

Ironhide sighed contentedly. "It feels good to get cleaned up."

"You can feel a difference?"

He seemed to settle in on his axels. "Not in a way that really matters. It takes more than some grit to scramble my gears, but protoforms are little more than a bunch of vulnerable cogs, you know? Kind of like humans and snakes, I guess. It's the…the concept of being dirty that's unappealing."

"Instinctive," I agreed, as one who had no great love for snakes myself. Rattlers and bull snakes were known to hunt each other in my garden and I had no patience for either one.

"Your planet is dirtier than most," he continued conversationally.

I laughed, feeling like some little kid in a childhood fantasy talking with my toy about far-off lands. "How many planets have you been to?"

"A lot. Thousands."

I stretched to reach the very top of the hood. "So what are most planets like?"

"Oh, most of them are dusty, and that's just something you learn to live with, but yours is one of the few planets with dust _and_ surface liquids. It's aggravating having to mess with _both_."

I moved on to the passenger front side-panel, taking extra care to make sure every speck was gone.

"You know, Ironhide," Will drawled from the blanket. "I'm going to teach Annabelle to make mud pies just for you."

The metal shuddered under my hand. "You let your _sparklings_ play in muck?"

I laughed, unable to resist teasing the brute of an alien robot who was afraid of mud. "They're famous for it. We even have a special entryway called a mud room."

"What a bizarre planet," Ironhide grumbled.

Retrieving the hose, I hesitated before spraying down the part I'd scrubbed. "Cold water okay?"

He rumbled a chuckle. "The ship I flew in to get to Earth was my own skin. _That_ water isn't cold."

Smiling in answer, I rinsed him off and double-checked my work. I'd missed a couple of spots and scrubbed them down before moving on to the passenger-side doors.

"Looks like you've got some tar stuck on you here," I mused, going to the pile of cleaning supplies for the canister the clerk had sold me for just such an emergency.

"Ahhh! Thanks," Ironhide rumbled gratefully as I wiped it off. "It's been itching for three days now."

"My pleasure." I grinned. "So Will, what would you like for dinner?"

"What are my options?"

"I've got some steaks marinating, but I haven't picked the sides yet."

"You know how I feel about your biscuits."

"Corn on the cob, too?"

"Sure."

The conversation continued on through simple, human topics – dessert, Annabelle's antics, my sister's latest drama in her divorce. I finished with the passenger doors and rear side-panels, then hopped up into the bed of the truck to wash it and the roof. Ironhide was such a monster that I had to use a soft scrub brush with a telescoping handle to reach everywhere.

"That feels _good_ ," Ironhide repeated. "What are you doing different?"

"I was using a sponge before. Now I'm using a scrub brush."

"Keep using the brush," Ironhide happily rumbled. "I like it better."

Will was smirking. "Shall I give you two a private moment?"

I stuck my tongue out at him and slopped wash-water into the bed of the truck to really give it a good scrubbing. It looked like it had hauled a load of dirt, and I could only imagine how much it must bother the Autobot.

"Oh!" Ironhide sighed, sounding for all the world like a man getting a back-scratch. "Right there. A little closer to the wheel-well. Oh yeah! A little harder. A little more. Uhhh."

I could hear Will laughing but didn't bother to look, afraid I'd blush. He was a truck for crying out loud! "How'd you get so dirty?" I wondered as I got the hose and rinsed away the bubbles.

"Got knocked on my aft when a Decepticon made a preemptive attack. I rolled before I could switch forms."

A minute later, I finished rinsing and closed the tailgate to scrub it. Only then did I notice the ding that went half-way across the gate. Following it around to the driver's side, I saw a massive dent. It looked like the whole panel had been crumpled there and then pulled back out. "Wow."

"Ratchet is still getting his med-bay really up and running so there isn't a whole lot in the way of parts available. I told him I could finish the exterior healing by myself. It'll take a little while, but I'm otherwise intact, so it should be fine."

"And it would give him a chance to show off his battle scars," Will teased.

My fingers lightly traced the damage, and then I jerked my hand away. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

He and Will both laughed. "Hardly," Ironhide snorted. "It might be a little tender if you hit it with a sledge hammer. But skip washing it for now. I don't want to get a patch of rust." He spat the last word like he was cussing. "It's embarrassing when Ratchet has to strip me down and clean it out."

I smothered a grin and moved further up the truck's body. "Men are such wimps around doctors."

"And femmes aren't?" Ironhide replied indignantly.

"Don't get her started," Will warned. "She just had a baby, and unless you're ready to hear a _lot_ more about human reproduction than you ever wanted to know, just grin and bear it. _Trust_ me."

"Sure," I mock-grumbled. "I bring up the idea of postpartum sympathy stitches once, and I'll never live it down."

Will groaned – his reaction every time I said the words – and I grinned.

We amiably argued back and forth as I finished the rest of the driver side and rinsed it off, using a soaked squeegee cloth to rinse the area close to Ironhide's dent.

Will declared that Annabelle needed a diaper change and brought her into the house while I started on the interior. There weren't half-empty bottles of soda or anything lying about, so I didn't need a garbage bag. Knowing Ironhide's opinion on dust, though, I decided he needed a thorough vacuuming. I beat out the floor mats and then set my upright vacuum on one of them, going to town with the attachments.

Will returned with Annabelle and a nursing blanket and I killed the vacuum. "She's signing for milk," he explained.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you," I said affectionately as I took her from Will.

"Where are you going?" Ironhide asked curiously as I went up to the porch swing with Annabelle.

"To nurse her," I answered, wondering how on earth I was going to explain this to an Autobot.

"Google _lactation_ ," Will suggested.

"He can do that?" I murmured to Will.

"He's an alien robot. He makes our Wi-Fi look like two tin cans with a cord strung between them."

The truck was silent for a long time and Will picked up the bottle and a soft sponge. "Ready for a wax?" he finally asked, breaking the embarrassing silence.

"Been ready for a week," Ironhide rumbled. Will moved with sure strokes as he applied the wax, and I realized that he had probably helped clean up his unlikely friend before. I was surprisingly happy at the thought and grateful to _finally_ be able to talk with him about work.

"I never did thank you, Ironhide."

"For what?"

"For helping me get security clearance. I'd probably have gone insane not knowing anything about this deployment."

"You have Optimus to thank for that," he answered, and Will kicked his tire. "What? It's no secret that he's here, and if he's here, he'll be leading us."

"You're not supposed to know any of the other Autobots' names or how many there are," Will explained to me, waxing down the rear passenger door. "And Annabelle can't know anything about this until she's much older."

"Those are terms I can live with."

"But like I said," Ironhide cut in, "It's no secret that Optimus Prime was at the battle of Mission City, which means she can know about him, too."

Will grimaced. "It's your secret, anyway. Go ahead and tell her, 'Hide. But remember every word is a potential danger to her."

"He's as overprotective as you are," Ironhide said, apparently to me. "So what do you know about Optimus?"

"Nothing."

Ironhide launched into the history of his leader. It was a long but gripping story, and I knew he'd only scratched the surface. Annabelle nursed herself to sleep before he finished, and after laying her down on the blanket in the shade again, I used another sponge to help Will apply the wax.

"…And that's how we ended up on Earth. Our scout found the boy whose ancestor had discovered Prime's nemesis and hailed us. We weren't in time to stop the attack on Soccent, but we were able to kill a few of the 'cons in Mission City and prevent any more attacks on that scale by destroying the All Spark."

I was a little awestruck at the matter-of-fact way he said it. "That's…amazing, Ironhide. That you would destroy the entire future of your race to protect us…."

"That's Optimus," he gruffly answered. "Some of us might have made different choices, if we were in his place. But he's Prime for a reason."

"I'm sorry," was all I could think to say.

His engine made a brief sound like gears grinding, and then he said, "I've mentioned Ratchet's name already, so I may as well tell you about him, too."

"Sarah," Will interrupted, picking a box up from among the cleaning supplies. "Did you really buy a random orbital buffer?"

"The clerk said I'd want it, considering the size of the vehicle I was waxing."

"Do you have any idea how expensive they are?"

"Classified, Major Lennox," I smugly reminded him. "But don't worry. All this is coming out of my retail therapy budget. Now open it up and help me get this wax off, and then Ironhide can tell me all about Ratchet while I finish with the interior."

Will helped me figure out the buffer and set me loose on the hood, roof, and large panels, while he hand-buffed the areas closer to the windows and trim. Even with the electric buffer, it took us quite a while to finish up the waxing.

When I switched the buffer off, Ironhide sighed contentedly. "Thanks, Sarah. That felt _good_."

"Something new I can put on my résumé," I joked. "Full-time mom, Army wife, Autobot masseuse."

Will snapped his buffing-towel against my backside. "So when do I get a world-class massage?"

"After our two little ones are asleep," I said, snatching the towel out of his hand and casting a significant glance at Ironhide.

"Time to head back to the base," Will announced to the Autobot.

I threw the towel at him. "Not a chance. I need to hear about Ratchet!"

Will laughed and tossed me the spray bottle of cleaner that was supposed to also protect the dashboard and seats. "Ratchet is their chief medical officer. There. Good bye, Ironhide."

"He's also the worst kill-joy you'll ever meet," Ironhide added, obviously not about to go anywhere. "Though Will's giving him a run for his money right now."

"Look who's talking," Will shot back.

I sprayed the cleaner on the seat and began working it into the leather. "Oooh," Ironhide moaned, and Will snickered.

"Shut _up_!" I laughed at my husband.

"What _is_ that?" Ironhide asked, apparently choosing to ignore Will's and my squabble.

I looked at the bottle. "Black Magic Pro-shine Protectant."

"That feels really good. Can you do that some more?"

"Go on, Sarah," Will snorted. "Use your Black Magic on him!"

"You know," I said, spraying down the front bench. "Maybe Ironhide should make an extended stay. Like, for a week. A whole, monastery-long week."

"Ouch, woman!" Will laughed. "That's cold. I risk life and limb to protect the entire planet, and this is the reception I get?"

"Yeah, well, life and limb need a little more time to recover, I think. Now go on, Ironhide. Tell me about Ratchet."

"Like Will said, he's our medic. He's a pacifist, or as much of a pacifist you can be as an Autobot. Even Optimus looks trigger-happy next to him. You wouldn't know it, though, if you mess with his med-bay or find yourself in the middle of a pranking spree."

"And when he _does_ fight, he's wicked," Will added. "He has this huge circular saw and if he gets close enough, nothing stays in one piece for long."

"Of course, __I don't have to be particularly close to tear Decepticons to pieces," Ironhide said proudly. "I'm going to have to bring you to a practice range, sometime."

"Which reminds me," Will said, and something about his tone made me look up at him. His expression was perfectly innocent, and I braced for impact. "Ratchet had a question for you, Sarah."

I sat down on the front seat and turned my attention to the steering wheel and dashboard. "He does? I thought I wasn't supposed to know about him."

"Well, the question was for me," Ironhide said, sounding almost…bashful. "And I didn't know the answer."

He was a super-advanced alien robot. What would I know that he didn't? "Well, let's hear it."

"It's purely hypothetical, you understand. It'll never happen. That's why I didn't ask before."

He hesitated for another second. "What will you do if I return Will to you in one living, breathing piece after a hospital stay?"

He actually sounded a little nervous. Good, I thought, smiling smugly to myself. "I'd have to give you similar wounds. And slash your tires."

"Ouch!" he said, echoing Will. "The femme was right. You should be designated Spitfire."

"Huh?"

Will's eyes were sparkling. "There are female Autobots – fembots – and one of them christened you Spitfire after Ironhide told them about your first meeting."

"She said any human that could threaten me like that to my face and mean it deserved to be an honorary Autobot." To his credit, Ironhide managed to say this without the least bit of humor creeping in. Either he was an excellent actor, or I had really put the fear of God in him.

I was red to the ears and Will was laughing at me again. "Well in that case, we need to have her out to the ranch," I said archly. "I'll give her the spa treatment, too."

"Pit, no!" Ironhide exclaimed. "Optimus _might_ be brave enough to meet you sometime, Spitfire, but he'd be the only one."

Will was rolling with laughter now. "You just don't want to see those girls in action together!"

"Maybe," he conceded.

I'd thought that today might just be a one-time thing, and I was surprised to realize how fond I already was of Ironhide. Better make sure he knew he was welcome again in the future, despite my threats of bodily harm. I climbed out of the front seat and moved into the back. "But remember, you have this to look forward to," I said, giving the seat a good rub with the Black Magic, "every time you bring him home safe. And since it was purely hypothetical, your tires are safe, too."

He happily moaned and Will taunted, "You're so sexy, Spitfire, even the mech has the hots for you. Google _that_ , Ironhide."

"Shut up," I growled.

After a second, Ironhide blurted out, "I don't." He sounded mortified. "Really. I don't. Why would he…?"

"Don't worry about it," I said, rolling my eyes and giggling. "He's just flirting with me."

"By accusing you of cheating? With a _machine_?"

"It's complicated. He's pretending he's jealous to make me feel more attractive."

"Is it working?" Will asked hopefully.

I ignored him.

"Human mating rituals," Ironhide rumbled, suddenly sounding amused. "Bee is _so_ in over his head-gasket."

Whatever that was supposed to mean. I finished with the back seat – Ironhide stoically didn't make a sound the entire time – and sauntered over to give Will a solid kiss. "Yes, it's working," I whispered. "But please stop making the big, scary alien robot blush. You're embarrassing my guest."

"So he's not making an extended stay?" Will pressed. Darn his come-hither eyes.

"No." I caressed his cheek. "And you'll get a hero's welcome tonight, I promise. Just show an ounce of self-control right now, will you?"

"Believe me, _Spitfire_ , I've been going through buckets of it this afternoon." Those eyes – those intense, piercing eyes – would be the death of me one day.

"Behave."

I turned my back on him and rummaged around in the pile of cleaning supplies until I found the smallest item there. "And last but not least," I said, uncapping a spray-bottle of air freshener and spritzing it into the carpet and on the dash.

Ironhide's engine roared and he made a mechanical coughing sound. The truck shuddered and, panicked, I jumped out of the cab. The hood split before Will bellowed, "Not in front of Annabelle!"

"Slag, femme," the Autobot growled at me, settling back down into his truck shape. "What did you do that for?" He had the windows down and the air conditioning blasting.

"Sorry. The clerk recommended it."

"I'm going to smell like a fragging femme!"

"The scent is New Car. It's gender-neutral."

"It _stinks_."

"Are you saying fembots stink?" I hotly shot back. "Because I'm an honorary one now."

Will busted out laughing.

And while Ironhide didn't _look_ any different, it felt like his silence was a wary one.

"I'll try to scrub it out." I really was embarrassed, but he'd scared me, and the two put together usually resulted in me getting angry.

"You so just handed her blackmail on a silver platter, 'Hide," Will taunted as I rounded up a scrub brush and sponge and mixed up some more soapy water.

"There's nothing wrong with a femme smelling like a femme," Ironhide grumbled. "But a mech shouldn't!"

I shivered as I climbed into the truck. "If you expect me to try and get it out, you have to turn down the A/C."

He obediently switched the temperature to something more closely resembling the air outside but kept the fan blasting. I scrubbed at the spots I'd sprayed, while Will and Ironhide snarked back and forth at each other. After a few minutes, I gave up. "I think that's as good as I can do. It'll fade with time, though."

He grumbled under his breath for a moment and then said, "Just don't do it again."

"I won't," I promised.

"Well, we got you squeaky clean and smelling sweet," Will said, grinning. "Anything else you need, Ironhide?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Nightfall. If I use your gravel drive, I'll be coated with dust again before I get to the highway. I'll walk up to it after dark."

Will groaned, and Ironhide rolled across the grass toward the edge of the yard, parking in the sun. "I'll just recharge here for a while and let my repair systems work on that dent. You two can go ahead and …."

"Good night, Ironhide," Will pointedly interrupted, scooping up Annabelle to carry her inside.

"Good night, Will, Spitfire."


	3. Chapter 3

I noticed the dust being kicked up in the drive, and it was moving fast. Will was still away on an hunt-and-destroy assignment, and I wondered if maybe…but it was an aggressive-looking silver sports car flying down the dirt road instead of the familiar black Topkick. I went out onto the front porch to meet whoever our visitor might be.

The car skidded sideways to a stop, transforming as it did. _Decepticon_!

"Spitfire," it said, and I realized he was an Autobot if he knew Ironhide's nickname for me. "I am Sideswipe. Your mate has been injured. Come with me to the base immediately."

Frantically, I ran inside and packed Annabelle into her car seat, snatched up my purse and diaperbag, and ran to the waiting car. We peeled out, screaming back toward the main road. "How bad is he?" I demanded. Annabelle was crying, either because of my panic or the crazy driving, I wasn't sure which.

"He has a concussion, several broken ribs, and a cracked collarbone. He is expected to survive."

Then the Autobot cranked the radio – some intense, angry, emo music I didn't recognize – and we rode to the base without further discussion. Despite the racket, Annabelle managed to fall asleep. We pulled up in front of the base hospital and Sergeant Epps met me on the sidewalk. Gathering up my things and Annabelle, I fell in step beside him.

I followed Epps into Will's hospital room, desperate to see him and know that he was okay. I knew the extent of his injuries, but it still knocked the wind out of me to see his two black eyes and bandaged head. He was so pale he was almost green. So close. It had come so close!

Sitting on the chair beside the uninjured half of his body, I took his hand. "Are you okay? What happened?"

He worked to focus on me, and I wondered how bad the concussion was. I'd have to ask someone about that.

"Skids landed on me a little bit."

"A little bit," I weakly echoed.

"Ironhide caught him, mostly. I'd be dead if he hadn't."

I squeezed his hand tightly. Ice flowed through my veins at his words.

"And hey, go easy on 'Hide, okay? He's even more beat up than I am."

"What?" I exclaimed.

He winced, and I lowered my voice. "What happened to him?"

"Mrs. Lennox," a male nurse said at my side. "Please let someone else brief you. The major has refused any more pain medication until you two could speak, but..."

"Will," I scolded. To the nurse, I said, "Of course. Do what you need to. Can I stay, though?"

"As long as you want," he answered, going around the gurney to administer the IV drugs.

"I'm going to be fine, sweetheart. You'll see." His eyes drifted shut, rolling back a little as they did. It was frightening how abruptly his breathing was lower and easier. I hadn't realized how much pain he must have been in.

The silent minutes slowly ticked passed until I was sure my voice would be steady. I'd known for months that each deployment could be his last, but he'd survived so much – Soccent, Mission City, and four hunt-and-destroy missions now. My hand in his trembled. _You promised, Will!_

Still looking at my fingers twined with his, I said, "You know my clearance level. What can you tell me, Sergeant Epps?"

In a low voice, he said, "We were engaging one of the enemy when a second one surprised us. It caught Skids, critically damaging him, and then hurled him at our front line. Like the major said, Ironhide caught him for the most part, but Major Lennox and another man on our team were struck. Ironhide brought all three of them behind cover, sustaining significant damage in the process."

"Where's the other man?"

Epps hesitated for a split second, and I knew the answer before he said it. "He didn't make it."

I shook my head at my unconscious husband. Too close. Way, way too close. "Where's Ironhide?"

"In the Autobot hanger."

"Can I go see him?" Because it was getting harder by the minute to sit beside my too-still husband.

"Let me find out for you, ma'am."

"Thank you," I murmured.

When he was gone, I whispered, "Dammit Will! You _promised_ you'd always come back." I wiped away the tears, but others took their place. "You were one step away from breaking that promise."

Epps let himself back into the room. "You've been given clearance. Your baby is welcome to stay in the base's daycare while you're at the Autobot hanger."

Right. She wasn't supposed to be exposed to any of this.

Needing one more second to compose myself, I said, "I'd like to speak with his nurse again, please."

He was at my side not half a minute later. I still didn't look away from my husband. "Yes, ma'am?"

"How long is he likely to be unconscious?"

"We'll keep him sedated for a couple of hours at the very least."

"Please notify me ASAP if he wakes up."

"Of course."

With that assurance, I picked up Annabelle and followed Epps out the door.

Sideswipe was idling in front of the hospital, the same music throbbing from his speakers, and Epps opened the driver-side door for me. There were only two seats, so he said he'd meet Sideswipe and me at the hangar. We dropped the still-sleeping Annabelle off at the daycare and then careened toward the heart of the base, driving right into the hanger itself. Partitions hung from the ceiling, dividing a corner of the huge room from prying eyes, but through the screens I could see trailing sparks of light that looked like someone was arc-welding. The car stopped and Epps opened my door for me. I took a deep, steadying breath and got out.

Unlike with Will in the hospital, I had no idea what I would see when we rounded the partition into Ratchet's med-bay. The first thing I noticed was a piece of machinery as big as me sitting on a table. A human in protective welding gear was working on it. It took me a moment to realize what the hunk of metal was because I hadn't often seen Ironhide in his robot form. It was his arm.

I swallowed down the bile.

Behind the human and his gruesome task, a large Autobot was also working at a table appropriate to his height. He brought a circular saw down on the form in front of him, and metal whined against metal. Ratchet, working on Ironhide.

Epps walked between Ratchet and his human helper to climb a small platform like the kind used when disembarking from a plane. I numbly followed him.

Ratchet lifted the protective armor away from his face when he saw Epps and me on the platform. Ironhide lifted his head a little, too, from where he was laying on his belly.

"Hello, Spitfire," Ratchet amiably greeted me. "They told me you were coming. I must ask you to refrain from slashing Ironhide's tires until they're all attached to him again. It's much easier to change them that way."

The bile rose again, and Ratchet sadly smiled. "It was a joke, Sarah Lennox."

I looked away from him to Ironhide's face. I didn't realize I was crying again until a tear splashed on my hand. "Will's in one living, breathing piece," he said, but I could hear the worry and self-loathing in his words. The 'if only' that haunted us both.

"Ratchet brought me around when he heard you were coming," he continued. "I'd asked him to before he put me under. I knew you'd keep your promise to me just like Will kept his promise to you, and I figured it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I was already unconscious."

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "New rule, Ironhide. If you come home in worse shape than him, you're off the hook."

He tried to smile through the pain. "So it's okay if we both die as long as I'm in more pieces?"

My hand twitched, tempted to throw my handbag at him. "No, you fragging glitch! It means I'll hunt you down in the Pit and haul your aft back out by your side-mirror if you let anything happen to yourself!"

Beside me, Epps let out a low whistle of surprise and, behind me, a deep voice rumbled in a chuckle. I turned to see the tallest Autobot yet. "Mrs. Lennox," Sergeant Epps said, deep respect in his voice. "This is Optimus Prime."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then I blushed. The Leader of the Autobots just heard me cussing out Ironhide. Way to make an impression.

He leaned down and extended his hand so that it was level with the floor of the platform. "Welcome, Spitfire."

"He's offering to carry you," Epps murmured to me. "It's an honor."

I nodded and carefully climbed into the palm of his hand. He held me up to eye-level, and I was surprised to notice his eyes were the exact same blue as Ironhide's. I wondered why that was.

"We are all grateful that Will did not fall today," he said, turning and walking toward another part of the hanger. In an aside to me, he added, "I knew the bonded mate of Will Lennox could not harm Ironhide."

"I'm not...you know...bonded like an Autobot."

He tilted his head, his optic hardware twitching in a blink. (I idly wondered why Autobots would need to blink.) "I understand now that with humans it is only a metaphor. That does not mean it is untrue."

He paused at a line of lower, free-standing screens that partitioned off another section of the hanger. From my place in Optimus' hand, I could see right over them. A small Autobot – well, small by comparison, he was still twice as tall as me – was hovering over a little car that looked like it had been through a demolition derby.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I looked to Optimus Prime. "Skids?"

He nodded slowly, still looking at the broken Autobot. "The internal systems have been stabilized and he's been placed in stasis for a while. The external damage can wait until Ratchet has put Ironhide back in one piece."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. I didn't feel bad for worrying about Will so much, but I did feel selfish for not worrying more about the others. Especially, now that I thought about it, the family of the man who didn't make it.

"Thank you," he said, accepting my concern. "But the reason I brought you here is there is someone who would like to meet you." He set me down on the public side of the screens beside a trio of pink, purple, and blue motorcycles. They transformed into a single entity, and I realized I was finally seeing a fembot.

"Welcome, Spitfire," she said, grinning. "I am Arcee."

"Are you the one who gave me that designation?"

Something about her demeanor – the tilt of her head, the brightening of her eyes – screamed 'sly.' "Yes. It seemed fitting that, if Major Lennox had an Autobot designation, you should, too. I was tired of hearing you constantly called, 'Will's mate,' as if you had no identity of your own."

"Wait. Will has an Autobot nickname?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Did they not tell you? Iron Will to go with Ironhide."

I laughed and new tears ran down my cheeks. I was far too emotional with all this going on. "That's a pun. Did you know that?"

"Yes. It was the scout's idea."

I shook my head in wonder - robots with a punning sense of humor.

She rolled slowly toward the door of the hanger, strolling. "I understand you and Will have a sparkling. Did she come with you today?"

"She's at the base daycare. They don't exactly give security clearance to toddlers."

"It's understandable, but it's also a shame. I would have loved to have seen her. Pictures and videos are one thing, but it's quite another to be in the presence of new life. For a while, I was a teacher of younglings on our world, though it was a very long time ago now."

The quiet grief behind her words struck a chord in me, and I suddenly realized why Optimus wanted me to meet her. "Well, Annabelle has seen Ironhide before, and Sideswipe transformed right in front of us this morning. As long as you stay in your alt form, I don't see why you couldn't meet her, if it means that much to you."

"Thank you. You are known to be very protective of your charges, and the trust implicit in your consent means a great deal to me."

The whining of Ratchet's saw echoed through the room, making me wince. "Please tell me he's unconscious again," I murmured.

"Oh, he is," Arcee confidently answered. "You can tell by the lack of cussing."

I snorted a laugh, grateful for her company. For more reasons than one. My body was telling me my daughter was overdue for a meal. I'd lost track of time in all the insanity. "Arcee, I need to go check on Annabelle. Would you be willing giving me a lift?"

Her eyes – also blue, I noted – shined brighter. "Certainly."


	4. Chapter 4

"We're on an army base. How can you not have a helmet?" I demanded.

"The humans I've transported always had their own," Arcee answered archly. "And if it's not dangerous enough to require a helmet in a car, you won't need one while riding with me."

I realized she thought I was insulting her, and I softened a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out that way. It's just that my only experience with motorcycles is as a passenger."

"Is that the problem? Then I'll drive." She made a tinny laughing sound and changed to her alt-form trio. A human being blinked into existence beside me, and I skittered away in surprise. It was a young woman wearing a smirk that practically screamed mischief. "It's just my holo-form," the shocking woman said. "The mechs can get away without one more easily than I can."

"Umm." My mind was still reeling, and that was all the response I could muster.

"Mature Autobots have three forms," the woman patiently explained. "Base form, alt form, and holo form. Well, technically they have four, I guess, with the transitional form, but since that's just a thick skin for travelling it, it doesn't really count. Not if you can't give it a custom paint job or put lipstick on it."

"Umm."

" _Spitfire_ ," she said firmly, reaching out to shake my shoulders just a little. "It's me. Arcee. This is just another form."

My brain finally seemed to work again. "But…" I looked over at the motorcycles. "You're still over there."

She laughed. "Most of me is."

"Ironhide's never…umm…" My brain tried to wrap itself around the idea of Ironhide stepping out of himself in my back yard. And failed miserably.

"Shown you his holoform?" Arcee prompted. "It's an optional form, and like I said, when you're a brute of a Topkick with tinted windows and a grill so big that no one can see into the cab anyway, you can get away without one. Besides, males are males, whether they're Autobots or human; they don't care at all about their appearance." She hopped onto…herself…or rather, a third of herself…and revved the engine. "So like I said, there's no need to worry about a helmet. I'll drive."

I sighed in defeat. I'd just met Optimus Prime, seen Ironhide's arm sitting on a table, and held the hand of my husband who had escaped death by inches. Fundamentally, what was so much crazier about _this_? "Sure," I said, swinging up onto the motorcycle and holding on to her tightly. "Let's roll."

Arcee was a good driver, which is not the same as careful, as I'd learned with Ironhide. We roared out of the hangar and down the main road, fish-tailing on every turn. I kept telling myself that I was perfectly safe, but my heart was in my throat the entire time.

An awful thought crossed my mind as we dismounted from the motorcycle. Did Will know about this form all those times he was teasing me about massaging Ironhide's seats? I suddenly wanted him to wake up so I could kill him. And what did this mean for the easy but, I now realized, deep friendship between the three of us? I mean, I would never be attracted to Ironhide's other forms, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't be attracted to his holo form. He wouldn't be attracted to me; he'd said as much. Will and I were both very good friends with the mech, nothing more. But…this was a potential monkey wrench I hadn't even imagined could exist.

Inside the daycare, a middle-aged woman with a nametag that read "Emily" greeted us. Before I could even tell her my daughter's name, Annabelle crawled over to me, wailing. I scooped her up and she clung to me, pitifully crying.

"She's been happily playing since she woke up half an hour ago," Emily protested.

"That's my girl, the drama queen," I said, holding her tightly. "Do you have a nursing room?"

"Right this way."

Arcee followed us, of course, curiosity plain on her face, but Emily didn't comment and I wondered if she knew who Arcee was. Probably not, come to think of it. What business would an Autobot have in a daycare?

Emily opened the door to a little office with several rocking chairs lining the walls. "Thank you," I said, and Emily left us, murmuring, "You're welcome." I settled into one of the chairs. Arcee followed suit, her head cocked to the side and staring openly. "So this is the nourishing of your sparkling that Ironhide observed."

"Is there anything he doesn't blab to you?" I caustically asked as I draped the nursing blanket over me and automatically got Annabelle started.

She grinned, still watching my daughter with interest. "He gives us an info dump when he gets back from visiting you. We have little casual contact with humans, and so he and the scout keep us entertained with their memory files."

I just about choked. No wonder they all called me Spitfire. "Well if you don't mind, I'd prefer that the entire Autobot force _didn't_ get an eyeful of my boobs."

She shook with giggles, finally meeting my gaze. "I whole-heartedly agree. Some things should be just between femmes. It's just…we don't have anything like this. To constantly sacrifice your own body's resources for the long-term support of your sparkling…" Her smile was full of awe this time. "The strong protecting the weak is a powerful idea among us Autobots. We can't help but admire it wherever we find it."

I found myself blushing. "I'm just feeding her."

"And strengthening her repair systems. And boosting her processing abilities. And providing her with a source of energy so perfect that it can't be replicated."

I chuckled. "The people at _La Leche League_ would love you."

Her expression was distant for a moment and then she abruptly grinned. "Yes, they probably would."

How would that be, to have constant internet access? Distracting, I decided. "So, if it's not too personal of a question…what is your function with the Autobots?"

Her grin this time was positively wicked. "I fought with the squad at Tyger Pax. We kept the Decepticons off Optimus' fender while he got the All Spark off planet. The scout who found it here on Earth served with me there. He's one sparky little 'bot."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "But you said you were a teacher."

"For a while, but our long lives allow for a career change or two. War necessitates them, too." Her expression softened again. "Not that I don't miss the younglings sometimes." She nodded toward Annabelle. "Enjoy the time you have with her."

"I've heard that once or twice," I answered with a wry smile. "So here with the Autobots, you're a warrior like all the rest. Does that ever get awkward? I mean, how many fembots are there?"

"Oh, I'm the only one on the planet. But I don't think it would be any more awkward for me than it would be for any human female. From what I've seen, it's about the same ratio. One femme for every twenty or so mechs."

"One to twenty? Um, not quite."

"That's what I've observed around the base."

"Arcee, there are more women than men on Earth."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "WHAT?"

"Women live longer, so our population is roughly 49% male and 51% female."

She got that distant, surfing-the-net expression and then blinked several times in surprise before focusing on me again. "Then why aren't there more women on the base?"

"I think gender is a little more differentiated for humans than it is for Autobots. I mean, Will could never do this," I said, gesturing toward the still-nursing Annabelle. "Men tend to enlist in the military more frequently than women."

"But… _why_?"

I chuckled. "Google _feminism_."

That kept her quiet for a good five minutes. Then she started laughing so hard that Annabelle startled and looked at her for a moment before deciding to nurse again. "Chromia would feel right at home with that crowd."

"Chromia?"

"Another femme. We usually take similar alt-forms. She, Elita-1, and I are essentially sisters. She'll probably find her way here eventually. Chromia's exactly the kind of femme who would blast a hole through the spark of anyone for suggesting she couldn't do anything, for whatever reason."

"Remind me to not get on her bad side."

"Considering your friendship with her mate, I doubt it would even be possible."

This time I was the one with the blank expression. "Ironhide has a _wife_?" Well there went any potential complication. I laughed in relief.

"That's too human a word, I think, for Autobot relationships. But yes, he has a mate."

"But…with so few femmes, how does that work?"

She smirked again. "Femmes never lack for companionship, if we want it. But we're not like organics. _We_ aren't hardwired to perpetuate the species at all costs. _We_ can function day-to-day without sex just fine."

I blushed because something about the way she said it made me think that Ironhide wasn't always in recharge when Will and I thought he was. Which meant any observations he made would be part of the info dump for the Autobot nightly feature. Lovely. Now I wished Ratchet would bring _him_ around so I could kill him, too.

"Don't be embarrassed," Arcee said, reading my expression. "S…the boy our scout is protecting and his girlfriend are far more instructive."

"Ugh."

She laughed. "Would a crash course in Autobot interfacing make you feel less embarrassed?"

I had a mental image of alt-form Ironhide and an Arcee-like motorcycle…and shuddered. "NO!"

Arcee laughed again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

I gave her a dirty look, and she conceded, "Okay, maybe just a little. But it's so much fun!"

"But it's so not fair," I shot back. "You've got Ironhide playing peeping tom for you but I didn't even learn your name until today. I don't have any dirt on you."

"Hmm. That can be remedied. There was the time that I walked in on Optimus and Elita – "

"WHAT?" This time I was the one who made Annabelle jump. "Optimus has a mate, too?" The shock was like being introduced to the Pope's kids. "For being able to survive without sex, you 'bots sure seem to be getting plenty."

She laughed, smirking again. "You know the human saying that all the best ones are taken? With Autobots, _only_ the best ones are taken. That's part of why I never thought about how human gender might be significantly different from Autobots. The fact that your Major Lennox was one of the few mated humans I knew just reinforced the idea that we were similar."

Because only the best ones were taken. That was quite a compliment to Will, and being generous with him was one of the quickest ways to get on my good side. I eyed her, torn between annoyance and amusement. "I'll make you a deal, Arcee. You kick Ironhide's tailgate from one side of the hanger to the other the next time he includes any intimate observations in the info dump, and I'll let you hold Annabelle."

"It only happened once," she assured me, "and only because he didn't really understand what was happening. We did some research after that, to avoid future embarrassment for everyone. Skids and Mudflap threw themselves into that like you wouldn't believe. I never imagined there were so many websites with scantily-clad women draped over cars. Optimus had Ratchet disconnect their comms for a week to get their processors out of the gutters of the internet and back on track for hunting Decepticons. But I'll still promise to trash Ironhide anytime you want for whatever reason you like if it means I get to hold your sparkling."

"Deal," I agreed. "I'll probably take you up on that sometime."

We lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"So how is Will, anyway?" Arcee asked softly after a moment.

"He was awake when I got here. Everyone seems to think he'll pull through, but I admit I'm still pretty shaken. He's never been injured that severely before, though I know it's not much compared to what could have happened. I feel awful for the family of the man who didn't make it."

She nodded slowly. "We all do. Ironhide wasn't as close to him as he is to your family, but the man fought at our side for a long time. He will be sorely missed."

I fell silent, thinking again about Will's matching black eyes. I'd never asked the nurse about his concussion. "Do you have a mate, Arcee?"

"Not at the moment," she said coyly. "I'm unattached. Why?"

"You've been at war for a long time. I was just wondering…what it was like…constantly risking the one you love."

The sympathy in her eyes brought tears to mine.

"You know the answer to that question better than I do, Spitfire."

"How do you survive?" I persisted. "Thousands upon thousands of years of death and worry and grief – how do you not go crazy?

"Our bodies, our minds, are very different from yours. Sometimes we crack – I'm pretty sure Prime's nemesis has – but we're built to last a little longer. I'm not sure that, relatively, you haven't endured more than I have."

I half-smiled at the thought. Always, I had to present a strong public face, and I'd gotten pretty good at it. Even the Autobots somehow believed that fragile Sarah was really Spitfire. "But how do _you_ do it?"

She hesitated, her eyes distant. "After Tyger Pax….I don't know. Technically we won – our mission was to distract the Decepticons so Optimus could jettison the All Spark. But so many fell that day both at Tyger Pax and Simfur. So many." She met my gaze again. "The scout and I were the only ones in our squad who survived, and a Decepticon tore out my friend Snaps' spark right in front of us. The scout was severely injured. He's one of my best friends, and they tore his arm off and crushed his vocal processor while I could only watch." The pain in her eyes was piercing. "They took away his ability to laugh."

My tears flowed freely as I imagined the scene she was describing.

"But I…I'm not sure if there is a human word for what I felt then. Love, maybe? It's intense like that, consuming even. But there are too many nuances in the word 'love.' Compassion, maybe? Honor. If it wasn't burdened with all the sexual overtones, intimacy might be the right word."

"Amity," I said softly. "The brotherhood of comrades in arms. Or in your case, sisterhood."

"Yes," she agreed with a sad hint of a smile. "Amity. But that…amity filled me, and I kept going because of it. Those whose sparks were extinguished would want me to continue, would wish life and joy to their fellow warriors. The scout wouldn't want me to wallow. Because of the amity we shared, I could go on. I _owed_ it to him, to all of them."

Would I be able to see it that way, if Will had been the one who died today? "But sometimes you miss them?"

I was shocked when tears glistened in her eyes. I had no idea Autobots could cry, even in a form that seemed so human. "Yes. For all the strength of the amity we Autobots share, there are times when I miss those we've lost."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She shrugged and blinked back the tears. "The amity we find here on Earth eases some of that loneliness. New friends. New hopes and dreams. New life."

As if on cue, Annabelle decided she was done and started using the nursing blanket to play peek-a-boo with Arcee. I desperately wrestled the blanket down and pulled Annabelle from under it to set her on my lap. "Little stinker."

Arcee abruptly laughed and then, smiling, searched Annabelle's eyes. "What is her stage of development?"

I grasped Annabelle under her arms and handed her off to the woman across from me. "Go to Aunt Arcee," I told my daughter. And then to Arcee, "She's just shy of a year."

The delighted surprise on Arcee's face when I plopped Annabelle in her lap was priceless. She breathlessly laughed as Annabelle squirmed, trying to get down. "She's very…slippery."

It was my turn to laugh as I stood in front of a mirror and made myself presentable again. "You should try giving her a bath sometime. She's a little fish."

Annabelle crawled across the floor to me and then hauled herself up to standing using my pant leg. "Mamamama."

"Yeah, sweetheart, I know. You're a momma's girl." I stooped and picked her up again. Placing her in Arcee's lap, I sat on the floor beside them so that I was eye-level with my baby. "She can walk, but she's a little perfectionist and prefers crawling since she still falls down sometimes. She's a little carnivore, too. She was going crazy over some of Will's steak the other day."

Arcee gingerly stroked a single finger over Annabelle's strawberry-blonde hair. "And I thought adult humans were fragile."

"You should have seen her when she was a newborn. She was so small that my dad could hold her in the palm of his hand. She couldn't lift her head or even smile. Utterly helpless. And for all that, there was an awe about her. My little angel, fresh from God's arms."

"Yes. Even now, her spark is…white, as we would say on Cybertron," Arcee said softly, her finger tracing Annabelle's chin. "I can feel the life in her. Young, strong, new life practically radiating from her. My spark is a single point of light and life, but with her, it almost feels like _she_ is the spark, that the life pulses in her every cell."

The way she said it, it was like poetry almost. "Thank you."

Arcee looked over at me and smiled, wonder in her eyes. "Thank _you_."


	5. Chapter 5

After Annabelle finished nursing, Arcee and I returned to the daycare and watched my baby girl play with the toys and other children for a few minutes before slipping away. The two hours were almost up, and while I wasn't sure Will would come around enough to talk to me, I felt I should be by his side, regardless.

"How late do you stay open?" I asked Emily as we left.

"Until 1900 hours."

"I'll be back before then. Thank you."

Arcee mounted…her motorcycle, and I followed suit. I was still having trouble wrapping my mind around the concept, despite spending more than an hour with her in this form. She seemed so _human_ – until I saw her with the bike. It boggled the mind, somehow. Just as crazily as before, she drove me back to the hospital.

When I dismounted, Arcee said, "Someone will be here at 1845 hours to bring you to the daycare so you can pick up Annabelle."

"Thank you. But have Epps or whoever just send a car, okay? I don't need _Autobots_ playing chauffer for me. You have better things to be doing, I'm sure."

"Actually," she said with that mischievous smirk, "I couldn't imagine a better way to spend this afternoon, not unless it involved dismembering…well, a few Decepticon leaders who shall remain nameless in the interest of global security."

I laughed. With what I knew about Autobots from Ironhide and Optimus, they were always such a contradiction – at once fierce in battle with their enemies and gentle in the extreme with those they protected. Arcee was no exception. "Well, since dismembering wasn't on the agenda, I'm glad you were able to hold Annabelle. We'll have to see if we can't get clearance for you to visit our place every now and again."

Her eyes lit up at the thought, in the human sense of the expression. "I would enjoy that very much. With your permission, I shall speak with Optimus about it today."

"By all means, talk to him. I could use a femme friend."

"Thank you."

"So, I guess I'll see you around."

Grinning, Arcee nodded and fired up the engine on her motorcycle, careening off in the direction of the Autobot hanger.

Shifting gears, again in the human sense of the expression, I turned and walked through the hospital front doors. The pleasure of the afternoon I'd spent with Arcee drained away with every step until nothing but gut-twisting worry and guilt took its place. I shouldn't have been out bonding with a femme while my husband was recovering from battle wounds. Amity was well and good for Autobots, but I owed it to my husband to show a little more concern and devotion.

I checked in at the nurse's station on Will's floor, and they said he had been sleeping soundly and would probably do so for another hour. If he didn't wake up on his own before then, they'd cut the meds and bring him out of it.

Going to his room, I settled in for a long wait.

He woke up – groaning – almost forty-five minutes after they cut the meds.

"Sarah?"

"Hey, handsome."

He reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's worth waking up feeling like crap if it means I get to see your pretty face."

I laughed. Though his eyes were so swollen, they sparkled.

"Hold on a second." I poked my head out the door and called to the nurse, "He's awake."

"Have you been sitting here this entire time?" Will asked as the nurse came in.

Guiltily blushing, I stood to the side of the room, out of the nurse's way, while he took Will's vitals and checked his eyes. "No, actually. Arcee and I have been hanging out."

His laugh ended abruptly in a groan and his good hand gingerly touched his ribs. "Guess laughing's not a good idea yet."

"No," the nurse emphatically said. "It isn't."

I frowned, sobered by yet another display of how close he'd come to getting himself killed. We let the nurse do his job in peace. After completing his exams, he said, "Your condition is improving. Are you ready for more pain medication, sir?"

"Give us just a couple more minutes."

"Yes, sir."

After he left, Will said, "But you and Arcee. Ironhide must be having fits about that."

"Oh, he doesn't know; he was still under Ratchet's knife. Optimus is the one who introduced us."

He half-grinned. "Been a busy day for you, hasn't it."

I snorted despite myself. "You could say that."

"It's too bad. I would have loved to be there when you met Optimus. He's really something, isn't he."

"Yes." I thought back on those few moments in which we'd spoken. "He's so gentle and respectful, but he moves with a grace...that's almost catlike. Sure, he might be friendly and purring right now, but..."

Will chuckled and then winced but still managed a grin. "Yeah. _But_. Although I've never heard Optimus compared to a house cat."

"Tigers purr, too."

His grin turned almost cocky. "Uh huh. So where's Annabelle?"

"She's at the day care for now. I wasn't sure how long you'd sleep, and I figured she'd do better there than in the hospital. They close at 1900, though, so I'll bring her back and you can see her tonight."

"Sounds good. I miss my girl."

I took his good hand in mine again. "I know."

After a quiet moment, Will said, "So what did you think of Arcee?"

"I really like her. As she'd say, femmes are femmes, whether they're human or Autobots."

Will grinned. "She'd never ask for it herself, but Ironhide knows she's insanely jealous that he gets to hang out with you and Annabelle and she doesn't."

"Well she came to the daycare with me today and we hung out together for a good hour. She told me a little about Elita-1 and Chromia."

A grimace of pain flickered over his face, but Will murmured, "Good. 'Hide says Arcee misses her sisters, and I know being one of the few military wives on base - and an officer's wife at that - has been hard on you. I hoped the two of you would hit it off. Damn brass limiting you to just Ironhide; I'm almost glad I got hurt just so you can finally meet everyone. Like I said, though, I wanted to be there to see it for myself."

"Teach you to get clobbered."

"I've learned my lesson. Won't happen again."

"Good. Ready for the pain meds?"

"I could tough it out."

"Yeah, but you won't because you can't take care of anyone else unless you take care of yourself first. And that means sleeping. And pain will keep you awake. So it's your _duty_ to take those meds, soldier."

He managed a smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

Satisfied, I poked my head out the door again. "He's ready."

The nurse came in, and Will said, "I only want to be out for three hours or so."

"I'll see what I can do," he answered dryly.

As soon as the meds hit his system, Will closed his eyes and fell into a deep, easy slumber. For the first time this long, overwhelming day, I was convinced that Will would be okay.

I got downstairs at 1840 hours, just to be safe, and went outside to wait for my ride. A black Topkick with a crumpled front passenger panel stood by the curb, engine running. Furious, I ran the short distance, threw my purse through Ironhide's open window, and proceeded to kick the living spark out of his tire. "What the _hell_ are you doing out of the med bay? You reckless, stupid, fragging son of a rusted Ford Pinto!"

"Hey!"

But I was only getting started. I'd been on edge to varying degrees for the last eight hours, and kicking his tire was turning out to be so very _satisfying_. "You were in _pieces! Your fragging _arm_ was sitting on a table! What are you even _doing__ in this form?"

"People are staring, femme."

Giving the tire one last good, solid kick, I stormed around to the driver's side and got in, slamming the door with all my strength. Rolling up the windows so we wouldn't be overheard, I smacked his dashboard – hard. "Ratchet's going to kill me when he finds I've torn you to pieces again. Do you have any idea what kind of day I've been through? I just – _JUST_ – barely found some peace and I come out here to see you playing hooky with an amputated limb! Epps was supposed to send a _car_!"

"Like I'd let someone with _human_ reflexes drive you and Annabelle around," Ironhide shot back as he put himself in gear and rolled across the parking lot. Something near the front passenger-side tire creaked ominously when he turned onto the road. "Arcee would have done it, if she could, but babies and motorcycles don't mix."

"Sideswipe picked us up," I pointed out.

"Arrogant jackass. I just about killed Prime when I heard he'd sent _Sideswipe_ to pick up Will's ladies. The very _last_ thing Annabelle needs is exposure to 'bots like him. May as well have sent a Decepticon. You think _I'm_ reckless? And who does that leave, eh? Mudflap? Even _if_ we could tear him away from his brother's side, your Kitchen-aide has more sense than he does. Ratchet was a bit busy. Who's left? Me or Prime."

"Believe it or not, I am perfectly capable of _driving a car_. While you and the gang are out saving the world, I do it all the time."

"Today is different."

"Yeah? How?"

He was silent for a moment. "Because Salani's dead and Will's in the hospital and the sun hasn't gone down yet."

I grimaced at the windshield. Another way that Autobots and humans were similar – apparently we both were superstitious. In a way I wasn't surprised. Death is too scary of a thing to handle alone. And despite how fragile we humans were, the Autobots had lived though a long, devastating war. They'd seen death much more often than I ever would. Superstitions at least give people (and apparently 'bots) some sense of control, even if it's only an illusion. When facing death, an illusion's still better than nothing. I had my own superstitions, too, and I fully intended to abide by them tonight.

"Will's already in the hospital, Sarah," he said, surprising me when he tenderly used my human name. "Do _you_ have any idea what it would do to _me_ if you somehow ended up there, too? Autobot amputations are a hassle, but they're nothing compared to human ones. And don't even get me started about Annabelle. I'm not taking any more chances today. So trash my interior all you want, femme, but you're stuck with me. Suck it up."

I punched the seat once, just because I wasn't quite done venting, and then leaned my head back against the headrest.

"You know what Will would say right now?" Ironhide said after several long, tense minutes.

"What's that?"

"You're sexy when you're angry."

I snorted, knowing he was 100% right about Will. "I'm going to tell him you said I was sexy."

"I did not."

"Did, too. You said, and I quote, 'you're sexy when you're angry.'"

"But I was quoting Will."

"You still said it."

"Smart-alec organic."

"Three-wheeled gimp. You're one cheeky little 'bot. Oh, and that reminds me. Arcee told me about the Autobot nightly feature."

"The…what?" He seemed to be genuinely confused.

"You know. The info dump you provide, along with popcorn and drinks, for the amusement of your fellow Autobots after visiting us."

"Oh…" He knew he was busted. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." That's right. Fear and tremble, robot warrior. "She also let slip that one of them was X-rated."

Ironhide's engine literally choked. As in, it died. We sat there at the side of the road for a moment while he tried a time or two to restart it. When the engine finally caught, he said, "Um…more like, R-rated, actually."

"Hedge all you want, you Yugo of a pick-up. I'm still gonna have Annabelle finger paint your interior with mud."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me, punk."

We rode in silence through the last three minutes of the drive, and I got out without a word. Annabelle was crying before I even crossed the threshold, and the sound just about broke my heart. "Sweetie, sweetie," I cooed as Emily handed her to me. "How long has she been like this?"

"Almost half an hour," Emily answered, giving Annabelle a ruefully kind smile. "On the bright side, she should sleep well for you."

"I should think so." Signing Annabelle out, we went back to Ironhide. Annabelle was still too distraught to go quietly into her car seat, so I pulled out the nursing blanket and cuddled and nursed her for a while. The engine shuddered to life, but Ironhide's only greeting was to tune his radio to a soothing jazz station. I wasn't sure if this was for Annabelle's benefit or mine. We waited until Annabelle was settled down enough to buckle up, and then we rode in silence to the hospital.

"See you later, Ironhide," I said as I got out.

"What time do you want me here to drive you home?"

"I'm not going home tonight."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason I wasn't allowed to drive today."

He didn't answer, and I shut the door. Picking up the diaper bag and Annabelle, I turned to go, but the whirring of a window rolling down stopped me. "They don't have facilities to house you."

"I'll sleep on a couch in the lobby or something." Turning to look at him, I said, "Listen…I really doubt they'll keep Will overnight tomorrow, too. After they release him, we'll both come visit you before heading home, okay?"

He hesitated, and it felt like a very grumpy silence. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

Will was asleep when Annabelle and I arrived, so we slipped down to the cafeteria for a quick dinner. When we got back up to his room, I tried to get Annabelle settled into playing on her blanket with a few toys, but if I made the slightest move, she'd sniffle and reach up for me, making the sign for Mommy. I couldn't ever ditch her in the daycare like that again. Maybe for an hour or something, but not for a whole day.

An hour and a half into our vigil, I was about ready to cry. Or scream. I had to keep Annabelle quiet, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. Will's sleep was too deep, with the pain meds. He was too calm in his steady, even breathing. He was an extremely light sleeper; normally, if Annabelle had been making half as much noise, it would have woken him up. His continued stillness slowly began to frighten me. Would he ever wake up? Death seemed a little stronger when he was like this. And even though my rational mind told me he was almost certainly going to walk out of this hospital tomorrow (or at least ride out of it in a wheelchair), I couldn't forget the 'almost.' I decided Annabelle and I wouldn't take a break until we'd seen him awake again.

My girl was finally convinced that I wasn't going to evaporate into thin air and started playing again, leaving me both anxious and bored to tears. Fumbling with the television remote, I tried to find something worth watching, and lacking that, started looking for something mildly numbing.

Abruptly, Annabelle let out a heart-wrenching wail and pulled herself up to standing on my pant leg. When I bent to pick her up, she desperately clung to my neck. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she pitiably babbled, "Mamamama."

"It seems," a woman's voice said, "that I've traumatized her."

I jumped to my feet and wheeled toward the open door to my right. "Arcee!"

She was leaning against the door jamb, her arms crossed, a look of mild annoyance on her face. "I expected better of you, Spitfire. Leaving your side exposed like that…" She tisked and stepped into the room to sit cross-legged at the foot of the gurney, facing both me and the door. "It's clear Annabelle takes after her father when it comes to being on the alert."

Sitting back down in my chair, I blushed and pursed my lips at her criticism. But then Arcee looked up at me and that impish, knowing smirk flitted across her face. "Of course, with inheriting her mother's looks, she'll have a host of men willing to have her six. She'll be able to be as selective as any fembot."

"Is flattery considered an Autobot martial art?" I snarked. "Because you're a black-belt."

The smirk blossomed into a friendly grin. "No, but trash-talking your enemy _is_. Flattery is just a new and interesting way to use those mental muscles."

Annabelle was still wailing and the nurse poked his head in, his expression clearly questioning exactly what kind of abuse we were inflicting on the child.

Arcee blandly looked up at him. "Is there a medical term for having a phobia of babysitters?"

The nurse didn't smile – was military after all – but his eyes sparkled in amusement. "I'll have to look that up and get back to you."

But Annabelle had done her job, and Will stirred in his bed. Arcee leaped to her feet to make way for the nurse, and Annabelle settled down now that the potential babysitter was on the other side of the room.

"Major? Major Lennox?"

Will groggily blinked several times. "Baby?"

"She's right here," I assured him.

"Sarah?"

Arcee snorted. "She's right here, sir."

At that, he finally seemed to come around and woozily looked at her in surprise. "Arcee?"

"Yes, sir. Filling in for 'Hide. He wouldn't fit in the room."

Will chuckled once and then groaned in pain.

The nurse checked Will's eyes and the readout on one of the monitors. "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Outnumbered," he murmured, and the nurse fought a grin.

Will's gaze was clearer every second, and I couldn't help myself. "The man's half-dead from traumatic brain injury, and he's still witty. Gotta love him."

"Or something like that," Arcee muttered, earning her a sharp, "Hey!" from Will.

This time the nurse cracked with just a flicker of a grin. "You appear strong enough for visitors, if you want them, sir. Let me know when you're ready for more medication."

"Thanks," Will said, dismissing the man with a slight nod.

When he was gone, Arcee shut the door and I went to perch on the edge of Will's bed, holding Annabelle out to him. "Look, sweetie," I encouraged. "It's Daddy!"

"How's my girl," he cooed, but she clung to me.

"Traumatized," Arcee repeated.

"I left her at the daycare for a good chunk of the day," I reminded him. "She still hasn't forgiven me."

"Good for you," he told her, tickling her under her chin. "Keep your momma in line." He said this last with a wink of his swollen eye to me. "So what else were you doing while she was in the daycare?"

"Mostly sitting beside you, though I did check in on Ironhide."

"How's he doing?"

"He's back in one piece, more or less. The punk gave me a ride here."

"Good."

"Good? He was creaking on the right-hand turns."

Will threw a brief grin at me. "Damage is almost never permanent with these guys, but Ironhide seemed pretty torn up _inside_ , you know? If he was out and about, then he'll be okay."

"She punched him," Arcee said, smirking. "Kicked his tires and called him the fragging son of a rusted Ford Pinto."

Embarrassed, I glared at her, but Will chuckled. "That's my Spitfire." Seeing my blush, he added, "Don't feel too badly. You probably spared him from Ratchet's tongue lashing. And speaking of Ratchet," Will said, turning to Arcee. "How's Skids?"

They launched into technobabble from which I gathered that he was still in pretty rough shape. Somewhere in the middle of that conversation, Annabelle let Will hold her, but she kept a wary eye on Arcee. Then they talked about Salani – the man who had died – and Arcee was able to give my husband a surprising amount of information. I guess the Autobots kept close tabs on each other and on the other NEST members. By the time they'd exhausted that topic, Will was looking pretty wiped out again. A good hour had passed.

"We should let you rest," Arcee concluded. She threw a side-long smile at me. "Or at least, I should. I'll see you tomorrow, Major."

"See you. And tell the guys hi for me."

"Will do. Ironhide's already made me promise him a full holographic info dump."

"Well in that case," Will said, his face scrunching up into a very intimidating scowl, obviously acting for the, er, camera. "Do what Ratchet says and get your aft back in shape or I'll sick Spitfire on you with instructions of 'no mercy.' Got that?" He grinned again, satisfied with himself, and leaned his head back on his pillow.

"I'll be sure to pass the warning along," Arcee deadpanned, and quietly let herself out.

"You make me sound like a monster," I grumbled, pulling my chair up closer to him so I we could talk while Annabelle nursed again. It was getting late for her and she probably would be down for the night after this.

Will chuckled. "You're very much an enigma to them, and Ironhide in particular doesn't quite know what to make of you. Fembots are tough, but human females…well let's just say he put them in the 'to be defended' category, along with most of the males, for that matter. And then you come along convinced you could take him out if you were so inclined. He would have written you off except that the boy was the one who killed Prime's nemesis and then there was me with the Soccent Decepticon. So he knows that while you _probably_ couldn't kill him, he figures it's better to err on the side of caution. Besides, he likes you. He hates it when you get so mad at him, and in some ways, you flying off the handle is worse than any physical damage you could do."

"It's still embarrassing."

"Look at it this way," he said, his eyes sparkling despite his obvious weariness. "You're earning your keep as an honorary Autobot by giving him _something_ to fear more than Prime or Ratchet. Do you know how many explosions we've averted by invoking your wrath? Arcee says that, in Chromia's absence, you're the next best thing."

I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to win this one. "You should sleep."

He eyed me with concern. "You're not going home tonight, are you."

"Not until you go home."

He shook his head, knowing my family's superstition: people left overnight alone in a hospital died. He'd never been hospitalized before, but he'd stayed with me overnight when I had Annabelle after I explained it to him. Of course, back then Will had a hide-a-bed couch – I just had two molded plastic chairs. I obviously couldn't stay here in the room _with_ him, but as long as I was still in the hospital, he would be okay. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"There were some couches in the lobby. I'll crash on one of those, and I'll be here before breakfast."

He knew how strongly I felt about this, so he didn't argue, though I could tell he wanted to. Besides recognizing a losing battle, he was fighting to stay awake as it was. "Sweet dreams, Sarah."

I held his hand, determined to stay until he was sound asleep. "Feel better, Will."

The lobby did have couches, and at about 2230 hours, I settled myself into one of them with Annabelle softly snoring in her carrier car-seat on the floor beside me. It was far from comfortable, but this was where I needed to be. Every time the PA crackled to life with a page, I woke up and listened to see if it was related to Will. Of course it wasn't, but I listened anyway. It took a while, but I managed to fall into a restless, exhausted half-sleep.

I jumped awake again. A man was leaning over me. "Sorry to startle you, Spitfire," he said softly.

Despite being groggy, I couldn't hear that name and not think of Ironhide. I realized this was another Autobot holoform in front of me, and I eyed the man curiously. Despite being in his late middle age, he was solidly built with dark hair, glasses, a moustache, bright blue eyes, and a white cowboy hat. "Come with me, please," he said.

As I gathered up Annabelle's and my things _again_ , I glanced at the clock and saw that it was a little after one in the morning. What now? Most of my questions were answered as soon as we stepped outside. There sat a blue and red semi in the load and unload zone. Optimus Prime.

I turned to the holoform, my jaw dropping, but nonplussed, he continued over to the vehicle and opened the passenger side door for me. "I'd prefer to not make this an order, Spitfire."

I hurried to the truck's side but hesitated before getting in. "What's wrong? Is Ironhide okay?"

"Ironhide, Iron Will, and all the other Autobots, are recharging like they should be. With one exception. Now get in."

"But I can't leave," I found myself irrationally arguing as Optimus' holoform took the purse and diaperbag off my arm and stowed them on the floor of his cab. "Will's going to die if I do!"

"We're not leaving the hospital," he patiently answered. "We're both going to recharge in the parking lot. The hospital staff caring for Will have orders to personally page me if anything happens. I have a built-in bunk and you need a place to sleep. Now get in."

Too tired to think of any more objections, I climbed into the cab. A narrow bed filled the space behind the front two seats, and it already had a pillow and fresh, folded blankets laid out for me. Despite my embarrassment and fuzzy mind, it looked too inviting to pass up. I slipped between the seats and spread out the blanket. The holoform shut the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side before disappearing. Then the engine started and Optimus rolled us both toward the back of the hospital's parking lot.

I could see the stars through his windshield, and soft, classical strains sang from the stereo. "Now sleep."

I closed my eyes, too tired to resist. "Yes, sir."

.

I blinked awake, disoriented. I was supposed to be in the hospital! So why was I in a comfortable bed, surrounded by the smell of leather?

From the radio, a soft voice whispered, "Are you awake?"

Optimus Prime! It hadn't been a dream, then. The sun was up, but I could see we were facing west, away from the morning light. "I'm so sorry! I'm sure you have a million things you need to be doing." I hastily covered Annabelle's car seat with a baby blanket so the bright sunlight wouldn't wake her up when we got out.

"Not quite a million," Optimus said, a smile in his voice. "But a few."

"We'll get out of your hair, er, cab then so you can get started." I reached for the door handle.

It wouldn't budge. "Before you go," he said softly, "there's something I wish for you to understand." He paused for a beat to make sure I was paying attention. "I would do anything for my fellow Autobots – kill for them, die for them. And though we are technically equals, I consider your Iron Will to be one of my own. He is part of my team, and anything I would do for my fellow Autobots I would do for him, whether it's standing with him in battle or setting his spark at ease by obtaining security clearance for you. Do you understand?"

It wasn't until I took a deep breath that I realized I'd forgotten to breathe. It was one thing knowing that Ironhide was watching out for Will; it was quite another that Optimus had taken such responsibility for my husband. I hadn't even begun to worry yet about Will returning to this war, but in that moment, I realized that he would go back to the fight and that, on some level, I would be okay with it. There would never be another Soccent because Optimus was the one personally standing between Will and the Decepticons. "Yes. I do."

"Then also understand this: you, Spitfire, are a part of Will. Anything I would do for him, I would do for you, whether it's killing my own kind to protect you or offering you a soft place to land at the end of an exceptionally hard day. Do you understand _this_?"

I swallowed down the sudden lump in my throat. In not so many words, he was telling me he…loved me, that I had somehow earned the amity of the Autobot leader himself. "I do now."

"Good." The passenger-side door opened a crack and, feeling more than a little stunned, I got out with Annabelle and our gear. A black Topkick pulled into the parking space opposite me – a changing of the guard. Optimus said, "Give Will my regards."

"Thank you," I said softly. "I will."

The door closed and Optimus Prime rolled out.

Turning to Ironhide, I hefted my gear and strapped Annabelle in. But Ironhide was still sulking after our argument last night. "I'm telling Will you slept with Optimus."

I half-laughed. "Fine. I won't tell Will you said I'm sexy."

The engine uncharacteristically purred to life when I got behind the wheel. Men! Cranky until they got their way.

I had noticed that the dent was visibly much improved, and as Ironhide rolled across the parking lot toward the hospital's main entrance, the suspension didn't make a sound. I asked, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better. Ratchet threatened to put me back in three pieces – "

" _THREE_ pieces?"

"Yeah. I guess you didn't see me at first. His assistant put the two pieces of my arm back together while Ratchet rebuilt my shoulder. Anyway, he was pretty ticked when he found out I'd taken his welds out for a test drive. But no harm done, and he was happy with my progress this morning."

"Good."

"How about you?"

"Better than I thought I would be when I fell asleep on that couch in the lobby."

"Optimus liked that, you know. You sleeping in his cab."

I groaned as Ironhide went back to teasing mode. His personality had as many forms as his body. "Oh get off it, you pile of rust. You want me to camp out in _your_ back seat some time? Will would be positively scandalized."

"I'm not joking, Spitfire. He's a Prime. It's his job – hard-wired into him – to protect others. He failed Will and so he failed you, too, and while he hasn't said anything, I know it was eating at him all day yesterday. Skids and I were being taken care of by Ratchet, General Morshower was taking care of Salani's family, and Will was in the most capable medical hands you humans have – but you were his loose end. That's why he let Arcee run off even though there was a lot that still needed doing, especially with me out of the action."

"Of all the things Optimus Prime needs to worry about right now, I should be at the bottom of the list."

Ironhide harrumphed but otherwise ignored me. "It's not often he can solve a problem in his sleep, and it's all the better if it involves a soft, warm, little human or two purring away in his cab."

I felt vaguely offended until I remembered Will accusing me of calling Optimus a housecat. Turnabout was fair play.

"The point is," he continued, "if you don't want Prime to worry about you, Autobot Spitfire, then don't give us so much grief."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ties in to The Daily Buzz. It contains references to TDB's Chapter 4 (Celebration), and sets up chapter 5. It also sets up the fic "Bright Spot."
> 
> If you do not find these stories on AO3, please check FFN. We are slowly getting stories archived here.

Two months after Will was released from the hospital, I waited almost anxiously in the Autobot hangar for the last piece of the puzzle to arrive. I'd met all of the Autobots except one – the enigmatic scout, the one who had hunted down the All Spark, who singly-handedly protected the boy until Optimus and the others could arrive, the one who even now was on his own, solo mission to keep his charges safe. We hadn't met because, until today, he'd been on the other side of the globe. But Ratchet wanted to give him a check-up and see if he could do something about a stubborn war injury, so NEST had flown the scout here. And his charges, of course.

I'd imagined him being like Ironhide and Arcee – warriors through and through, tough cookies who nonetheless made a place for us primitive organics in their steely sparks. The _last_ thing I was expecting was yellow. Bright, playful, sunny yellow. With racing stripes.

The alt-form scout pulled into the hangar and the boy and his girlfriend got out. My husband went to greet the humans while the yellow Autobot transformed. Just watching the rowdy way he interacted with the others reminded me of Arcee's description of the scout – one sparky little 'bot. Though size was really no indication, the way he mock-punched the others or the way they affectionately cuffed his head made me think he was young for their kind. Not a child – Optimus wouldn't have sent a child on such a risky mission – but not a hardened veteran like Ironhide or Ratchet. Maybe hanging out with human teenagers was more comfortable for him than I'd have thought.

Optimus turned and saw me standing by myself. Waving me closer, he said, "Spitfire, this is Bumblebee."

Will had warned me that the scout's throat had been damaged and he couldn't speak. Others could translate for me, or he might speak through sound bites. A familiar cowboy's drawl said, "Well howdy there, little lady." John Wayne.

I grinned. Someone must have told him I owned a ranch. "Hello, Bumblebee. It's good to finally meet you."

He made a strange, two-syllable hum. Likewise? Thank you?

"Hey Sarah!"

I turned automatically when Will called my name, and then glanced back at Bumblebee. He waved good-bye to me, an amiable expression on his face, and then went to rejoin his friends.

Trotting over, I joined Will, the boy, and his girlfriend. For some odd reason, the Autobots insisted on waiting until we were face-to-face to tell me the names of the scout and his humans. "Sarah," Will said, "this is Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Baines. Sam, Mikaela, this is my wife Sarah."

"A pleasure," I said, shaking hands with them both.

"Ratchet had a few questions for Sam," Will said, clapping the boy on the shoulder, "so, Sarah, I was wondering if you could help Mikaela feel at home for a few minutes."

"Sure," I answered nonchalantly. I was technically just a guest here myself, so why would Will entrust me with keeping an eye on Mikaela? Something was up, I could feel it, but I wasn't about to give my husband away, whatever he was doing.

Will and Sam headed over toward the med bay, while Mikaela and I wandered toward the other Autobots. "Do you know everyone?" I asked, gesturing toward them.

Her smile was almost sly. "I guess you could say I do. I've only met Optimus, Ironhide, and Ratchet face-to-face, though."

I knew just who to introduce her to first. "Hey, Arcee!"

She came zipping over, anticipation bright in her eyes. "Hi, Spitfire." Turning to the girl beside me, she said, "You must be Mikaela, Bumblebee's BFF."

Mikaela grinned widely. "And you must be the original biker chick."

Arcee giggled like it was some kind of inside joke and transformed into her tripartite alt-form. Her holoform flickered into existence on her pink bike, and she grinned widely at the two of us. "Care to go for a spin?"

I exchanged a glance with Mikaela – who seemed to be taking the holoform in stride much more than I had – and she dove for the purple motorcycle. "Are you freaking kidding?"

That left me the blue bike. Appropriate that I would be riding Arcee's Chromia component.

When I'd finally gotten up the courage to ask about her three pieces, Arcee explained that, when she got her upgrade to the tripartite form, she'd deliberately modeled the other two bikes after her sisters. To her, it was sort of like carrying their pictures around – she had a constant reminder of them. Especially after the Decepticon second-in-command killed Elita-1, she wanted the reminder. Of course, Arcee would have to do something about her coloring if and when Chromia showed up. But until then….

"You know I'm still new at this," I nervously said, gripping the blue bike's handles for dear life. While I trusted Arcee, whether she was driving in her holoform or giving me lessons on her pink component, I was none too confident of her ability to safely pilot all three parts of herself independently.

"Coward," Mikaela shot at me, clearly enjoying herself.

"Come at your own pace," Arcee answered me, her smirk replaced with a gentle smile for once. "I won't let you crash." She turned to Mikaela, though she was still speaking to me. "This young one needs to be taken down a notch or two."

Mikaela grinned almost evilly. "Bring it, biker chick."

Arcee's smirk was back. "You're on, friend. I'm cutting the purple one loose. Ready. Set. Go!"

The two shot out of the hangar like a 'con out of the Pit was after them. I followed more slowly, but still fast enough for the wind to sing in my ears and flow over my skin like water, my hair streaming out behind me. I was increasingly beginning to appreciate the sheer pleasure of _speed_.

"Be careful!" I heard Ironhide bellow at our retreating backs, and I grinned. Overgrown mother hen.

Arcee and Mikaela rocketed down the base run-way, and I could almost imagine the heat Optimus would take for their reckless display. Arcee beat Mikaela to one of the directional lines, which was apparently the finish line because they both circled around almost leisurely and pulled up beside me. "So, Spitfire, where to now?"

"Someplace we can talk."

"Better stay on base," Arcee mused. "I know just the place. Come on, femmes." She rocketed away again, and Mikaela fell in behind her. I kept pace with them this time; now that they weren't racing, I was sure Arcee wouldn't let me wreck.

Arcee brought us to the commissary and, after purchasing Fat Boys for all three of us, led us to a small park. It was late August, which in the Indian Ocean means early summer, but it was still blazing hot. Mikaela and I were appropriately (read: skimpily) dressed, but Arcee was still in her usual fitted jeans, boots, and leather riding jacket.

Sitting down on a picnic table in the shade, I said, "Um, Arcee?"

"Yeah?"

"You might want to shed that coat in the interest of blending in."

She paused for a beat and then shrugged. "One of the perks of being a fembot is that fashion can come before function. Usually."

"Yeah, well, I'm sweating just looking at you."

She smirked. "You and every mech on the planet."

I barked out a laugh. "Except Ironhide, you mean. I've still got my Black Magic when it comes to him."

Mikaela smacked her palm to her forehead, shaking her head in disbelief. "I cannot believe you just said that." She looked from Arcee to me. "Either of you. I mean, aren't you a mom and everything, Sarah?"

Arcee laughed at the girl's expression. "I just broke the second commandment, didn't I?"

"Second commandment?" They obviously weren't talking about the usual ten.

Mikaela shot Arcee a downright dirty look. I mean, _venomous_. And suddenly it clicked - Mikaela's evasive answer when I asked if she knew the Autobots, her feisty attitude with Arcee, the inside jokes. "You know each other already. You're _friends_."

"Way to go, Arcee," Mikaela muttered, but the fembot just shrugged.

"How?" I stammered. "We were already here on the island before Arcee arrived. How do you know each other?"

But Mikaela was still arguing with the fembot. "You know how hard I worked at this, what it means to 'Bee. You think they'll let it slide?"

"Spitfire is an honorary Autobot," Arcee answered. "She deserves to know."

At this Mikaela positively bristled. "An _honorary_ Autobot? Just how does one become an honorary Autobot?"

"Easy," she smirked again. "Kill a Decepticon."

"Sam killed _Megatron_!" the girl burst out. "But you guys didn't even want him in on it!"

"That wasn't my call. I'm just saying that Spitfire has earned a place in the circle."

But Mikaela wasn't ready to let it go. "Bee couldn't have taken down Brawl without me, but no one's mentioned this honorary Autobot thing to _me_. How many are there?"

"Just Iron Will - Major Lennox to you - and Spitfire here."

Mikaela sized me up doubtfully. " _You_ killed a Decepticon?"

Arcee came to my defense. "Her bond-mate did. But she earned her place all on her own."

"Oh, so there's another way to become an honorary Autobot?"

The fembot shrugged again and, walking to her pink motorcycle, rolled it toward us. Turning on the headlight, she projected a two-foot-tall hologram of me and Will. I recognized it as the night I first met Ironhide. It was an odd sensation to see a miniature version of me look up with fire in her eyes and declare, "Then listen here, Ironhide, and you listen well. If you let anything happen to my husband I will personally rip out your sparkplugs, shove a live round up _your_ aft and scrap whatever's left. Got it?"

Arcee shut the hologram down. "This was her reaction to Ironhide. If you can threaten him like that on your first meeting and mean it, you get into the club."

Mikaela still scowled. "They'll shut us down."

"Optimus will let no such thing happen. We're all enjoying it too much. Have a little faith in the big guy." Arcee gingerly rested her hand on Mikaela's shoulder. Autobots rarely touched each other and, when they did, it was usually rough-housing. I hoped Mikaela appreciated what a significant gesture Arcee was making. "Worst case scenario, we migrate the site to a new host ISP. But I really think Spitfire should be brought into the secret."

Mikaela eyed me again. "What is your function here?" she abruptly asked. "You're Major Lennox's wife, obviously, but why are you thick as thieves with the Autobots?"

I looked uncertainly at Arcee. I'd asked myself that question numerous times and hadn't figured out a satisfactory answer as to why the Autobots liked me so much. She smiled. "You're our...den-mother is the term Epps used, I believe. That side of you comes out most with Ironhide, but through him, we all get a glimpse. Even in the military, many of the humans we interact with are deeply suspicious of us, but from the hour you met Ironhide, you trusted him with your mate's life. And when he kept his promise, you treated him like a friend. That kind of courage and amity doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated." Arcee looked from me to the girl. "As for Mikaela here, she's Bumblebee's best friend in many ways. The scout's mission is to protect Sam, so there are things he can't confide in the boy. Besides being cool under fire, Mikaela helps him keep his sanity and helps all of us keep in touch."

"Can't you do the internal comm thing?" I interrupted.

"Yes, but there are limits of distance and time. Mikaela, brilliant girl that she is, helped us figure out a way around that. She's so brilliant, in fact, that Ratchet let her do Bumblebee's last tune up."

I gaped at the girl for a moment and then glanced up at Arcee. "I'm with Mikaela. If Ratchet trusts her to tinker under the scout's hood, then she has every bit as much right as me to be an honorary Autobot."

Arcee grinned. "I'll take it up with the others." She looked expectantly at Mikaela. "It's not _my_ secret to share."

"Yeah, right," she grumbled. Eyeing me warily, she said, "Bumblebee has a blog."

"Bumblebee. Has. A. Blog. An _Autobot_ has a _blog_?" I stared at her incredulously, certain that this had to be a joke. Even I knew that an Autobot _blog_ was flouting every principle of security. Really, what were they _thinking_?

"Before you blow a gasket," Arcee said, "we've been covert about it. It's an encrypted, by-invitation-only site. We all have non-incriminating user names and refer to ourselves as a family and to humans as our friends. All pictures are strictly alt-form, and we keep the discussions as human-sounding as possible. Even if some random person ended up reading it, they wouldn't have a clue."

I looked doubtful, and a faint smile tugged at Mikaela's lips. "They'd certainly be confused," the girl allowed, "and nothing about it screams 'alien robot'. We don't exactly pass for human, though."

"Which is why we need you," Arcee added. "More humans getting involved will help us sound more human. And the more human we can act, the more likely it is that we'll be accepted by your people. We've sorely missed Jazz in that regard."

"You've thought this all out," Mikaela accused.

"Not on my own. Optimus and Bumblebee both agreed we should at least broach the subject with you."

While Mikaela tried to think of a comeback to that one, I said, "I can't keep this from Will."

"You have to!" the girl exclaimed at the same time that Arcee said, "I wouldn't expect you to." The two glared at each other.

"What part of 'they'll shut us down' do you not understand, femme?" Mikaela positively growled.

"The part where it's inevitable," Arcee shot back. "You want to be an honorary Autobot? Spitfire trusts Optimus with the father of her child. You can't trust him with a blog?"

"Optimus can't control what the government security freaks do. He isn't God."

Arcee chuckled with grim humor. "You think I don't know that, that Spitfire doesn't know that? I'll have Bumblebee make a backup of the site, oh ye of little faith, and then we'll tell Will and the others. This will work out, most likely for the best. Trust me."

"People who have to say 'trust me' aren't trustworthy."

Arcee looked at me. "Do you trust me?"

I did. It was almost a shock to realize just how deeply. "Yes." I turned to the girl, realizing that she'd been on the other side of the globe from the Autobots and didn't know how strong the connection was between the NEST members. "Mikaela? I don't have a whole lot of clout, but Will does, and I promise you he and I will both throw everything we have into supporting you and Bumblebee."

She grimaced. "I don't have a choice, do I."

"Of course you do," Arcee answered. "It's just becoming painfully obvious what the right choice is."

Mikaela sat for a minute or two, her arms defiantly crossed, while she processed everything we'd said. Finally, she met Arcee's gaze with an expression that was a little less hostile. "Bumblebee wants to out the blog?"

"He wanted to expand it to include Spitfire and Iron Will, yes, even knowing there's a risk of getting shut down."

Mikaela stood and stepped almost toe-to-toe with Arcee. "I love him like…like a brother. You'd better know what you're doing, or I'll one-up Spitfire and follow through with my threat to kill you."

Arcee's eyes flashed. "I love Bumblebee, too, and once it was as more than just a brother."

Both Mikaela's and my eyes widened.

"Without breaking the second commandment," Arcee went on, "suffice it to say, I have a bright spot in my spark for him. One way or another, we'll make sure he's okay."

A little stunned, Mikaela nodded.

Arcee seemed a little uncertain. Shy almost. "He and I…it's a secret that I share with you two alone, as something just between femmes. Okay? Don't even speak of it to Bumblebee."

I numbly nodded, as did Mikaela.

"Now come on," Arcee said, straddling her pink component, "before they send a hunting party out after us."

It wasn't until we were racing in formation back across the base that I realized what Arcee had done. With me on her Chromia component and Mikaela on Elita-1's, Arcee was rebuilding her team of femmes. She had sisters again.

I couldn't begrudge her that, even if there was some friction between Mikaela and me. For Arcee, I would make an effort to like her. Especially knowing how protective Mikaela was of Bumblebee. If the girl shared such a deep amity with him, then she was an honorary Autobot already.


End file.
